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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730667">down in the deep end</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchee_writer/pseuds/witchee_writer'>witchee_writer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Feelings, M/M, Post Season 3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Swimming Pools, they're still in the friendship stage but barely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:21:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchee_writer/pseuds/witchee_writer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had his good days and his bad days, Billy knew that, they were close enough now that he knew that, but this- this was something else entirely and it terrified him more then he was willing to admit. Because if there was one thing that Billy knew that Steve didn't do, it was swim in his pool.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove &amp; Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Mad Wet Rat Boy and Fluffy haired Doofus</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>down in the deep end</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Had an idea and rolled with it, also I do live for the angst so here's some more? I'm sorry Steve, I'm putting you through so much but it has to be done. This is a post-season 3 fic and assumes that Billy somehow lived, or perhaps had the Mind Flayer forced out of him at some point earlier in the season. Either way, he knows about monsters now and he's been hanging out with Steve.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Harrington?" </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy frowned, looking around, warily. The pool area was quiet, eerily so. Billy liked the water, pools, the ocean, lakes, it didn't matter, but there was something about this one, that set him on edge. Maybe it was just Harrington's feelings bleeding into his own. He made no secret (to him anyway) of how much he hated this area, seeing the pool, even just the light from it. That was why it was so fucking weird when the kids said that Steve had gone out for a swim. Maybe that was what set Billy on edge, because that wasn't fucking normal. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy glanced into the clean, shining water. He saw Harrington down there, and his breath caught for a moment until he moved, swimming across the floor of the pool. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He still thought it was weird that Harrington was swimming at all, let alone in his pool. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sure, Billy hadn't been around when Barbara Holland had disappeared but he had heard enough. Wheeler and Byers had told him what had happened when Billy asked what Harrington's deal was with the pool. Holland had died in that pool, she had been dragged to the Upside Down and she had been killed. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy had been spending a bit of time with Harrington, whether it was because he'd had to take Max to his house anyway and decided to stick around, or because they just ended up in the same place at the same time, or because Billy just fucking needed the company (and vice versa). Billy might have even have gone so far as to call him a friend, these days. They'd fought monsters, their parents were assholes, they had both been king of the school at one time or another, weirdly they had a lot in common. Billy wouldn't say it out loud, but he enjoyed Harrington's company. It was better then fucking around, then actively trying to wreck other people's homes just because he could. Harrington had never been afraid to stand up to him, to tell him exactly how he felt (even after Billy had beaten the shit out of him). Billy wasn't scary, not to him, Harrington had seen far fucking worse. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Oh, Billy still went too far sometimes. No amount of monster possession and fighting and dealing with Russians could change the red, hot anger that burned inside him. He still lived at home, he still had his father to deal with, he still had days where he hated everyone and everything and they could all go fuck themselves. But it was usually Harrington he crawled back to first. In the back of his mind, he thought it was a little alarming how much he needed him, how much he hated staying away for too long. Max said he was always a bigger asshole when he didn't see Harrington for longer then usual, her eyes gleaming with a kind of knowing look that Billy hated. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy shifted, his fingers twitching. Harrington had been under water for too long, that wasn't fucking normal. His lungs had to have been burning, he needed to take a breath some time. Billy had just taken his jacket off when Harrington burst to the surface, coughing and spluttering. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What the fuck, Harrington?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harrington spun around, his brown eyes wide. He flailed for a moment and then backed up enough to get his feet on the ground. He was breathing heavily, still coughing even as he stared at Billy like he had been caught doing something he wasn't meant to be. That look scared the shit out of Billy, if he was being honest with himself. Why would Harrington look so guilty when it was just a swim? Why was he down there so fucking long? Billy narrowed his eyes, and Harrington shifted under his gaze. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You- you're early," said Harrington, finally. He forced a smile to his face, a weak, shaky thing that made Billy angrier then it should have. "I got a little warm, thought I'd cool off." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bullshit. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>That was bullshit. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The weather was turning, the warm days of summer had started to slip away into something chillier. There had been noticeably less people at the pool for the last two weeks, it was only a matter of time before it went to shortened hours. There was a lot they didn't speak about, Billy knew that, but he hated the idea of Steve standing there in the middle of his fucking pool, his chest heaving, his face a little pale, lying to his damn face. Because Billy knew how much Harrington struggled, had seen him on good days and bad days. He knew when the nightmares were at their worst and he hardly got an ounce of sleep, he knew when Harrington seemed to withdraw into himself, all quiet and distant. But this- this was a whole different level that Billy hadn't even considered (he should have, in retrospect). Sometimes he thought Harrington had a death wish with all the shit he got himself into, the decisions he made (antagonising fucking Russian generals, offering himself up as demodog bait, crashing his car into Billy's, those kind of decisions), but maybe it wasn't quite that simple.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His fingers twitched at his side, whether he was looking for a fight or a cigarette or just something to do with them, Billy didn't know. He felt worried and scared and angry about feeling either of those things, and if Steve Harrington could stop looking at him with those wide deer eyes of his that would be fucking great. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Get out of the pool, Harrington," said Billy, his voice low and dangerous. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I-" started Harrington, before breaking off with a frown. He looked behind him, back into the deep end. The blue lights were eerie, Billy was beginning to hate them as much as Steve did. Something skittered by in the leaves of the forest, and Harrington flinched, his eyes darting into the trees. Billy saw the far off look on his face, saw him get lost in another world even when he stood right in fucking front of him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Next time, Billy was just going to take his damn time coming to pick Maxine up. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>(Even in his head he knew it was a lie). </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy took his wallet out of his jeans, tossed them in the general direction of his jacket, his keys and cigarettes too. He toed off his boots and jumped in the damn pool. Harrington didn't tear his eyes away from the forest until Billy was crowding him, until he was right there. Harrington looked at him, then, confused (and lost). "What are you doing?" And his voice was nothing more then a whisper, Billy hated that too. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Of all his bad days, this was by far the worst. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>When had he learned to tell the difference? </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Get out of the fucking pool, Harrington," Billy snapped, harsh and mean. If Harrington noticed, he didn't say anything. It wouldn't be the first time that Billy had tried to cover something up with anger, nor would it be the last. It was easier then admitting that he was in the stupid pool because he was worried and because he cared about what happened to Harrington. Still, he didn't move. It was as if he was frozen in that water, his eyes flicking between the forest and the deep end of the pool and Billy standing there, waiting. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I- I just had to check, had to make sure there were no cracks down there," said Steve, eyes wide, breath still a little too quick. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>And by cracks, Billy knew he didn't mean in the concrete or in the tiles, he meant in their universe. He meant that he had gone swimming to make sure there was no way someone could die like Barb had, dragged into the Upside Down. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And if there had been?" snapped Billy, poking him in the shoulder. Steve winced, his hand going to cover the spot automatically. But Billy wasn't done, because Billy was fucking pissed off. "You just thought you would deal with it yourself? That if there was a damn entrance in that pool that you would sort it out yourself and not get killed? Or is that what you want, Harrington? Are you looking to get yourself killed?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No," said Harrington, immediately. He bit his lip and Billy tried not to follow the movement (it wasn't the time). "I wasn't- I wouldn't-" He shuddered. "I just had to check, I just had to make sure." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy scowled, it wasn't the answer he had been looking (hoping) for. "Get out of the pool," he said, again. He shoved Harrington towards the edge, glared at him until he went to pull himself out. He was shaking now, Billy noted. His arms barely seemed to hold him up as he tried to get out of the pool. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"For fuck's sake," growled Billy, grabbing him by the waist and practically throwing him out of the pool. Billy followed, his hair and clothes dripping wet. There were no towels, because of course there fucking weren't. They both stood there, cold and wet, Steve looking miserable and somehow, even more lost than before. Billy wanted to hit him (almost as much as he wanted to wrap him in his arms and hide him from Russians and monsters and everything in between). He settled for neither, nudging Harrington inside, a hand on the small of his back. It was easy enough to avoid the prying eyes of his sister and her nerd friends, to get Harrington up the stairs. Billy snatched a couple of towels on the way, but they did nothing to stop the way that Steve shook. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The kids," said Steve, weakly. "I was supposed to take Dustin home and-" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Shut up, get changed, I'll deal with it," said Billy, tightly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Billy, I-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Get changed, Harrington.</em>" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He could take the nerds home, that wasn't a problem. He could drop them off, come back but his sister- that was a problem. He didn't want to go home, he couldn't just drop her off, not without consequences and if he stayed, it would take time for him to sneak out again. Billy didn't like the idea of leaving Harrington in this big, empty house on his own, not when he was like this. What if he wanted to check the pool again? What if he didn't come back up this time? Billy cut that thought of real fast, but not fast enough judging by the look on El's face as he stepped into their little hideaway. They used to occupy the lounge room but then they discovered the second reception room and deemed that their clubhouse whenever they came to Harrington's for game night. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy was kind of annoyed he knew that too. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had turned soft since Starcourt. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>El went to say something but Billy cut her a sharp look and she closed her mouth again. He could practically feel her studying him, prodding into his thoughts. They had all tried to teach her the concept of <em>permission</em>, but like any teenager that was near impossible. Billy was grateful for her nosiness just this once, when she turned to Max and said, "Sleepover?" Her eyes went a little wider, a little more hopeful. Max glanced at Billy, uncertainly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You gotta ask your Mom," said Billy, "Ain't up to me, Maxine." He knew though, that Max could convince her Mom (and Neil) of anything, and that it wouldn't be a problem. He turned his attention to the others, as his sister squeezed past him to find the phone. "New plan, nerds. Harrington feels like shit, I'm taking you home." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is Steve alright?" asked Dustin, worried. His eyes ran over Billy, confused. "Why are you wet?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>No, he wasn't alright, but Billy didn't say that. They had all been through a lot together but Steve would never, in a million years, want those kids to help him, to worry over him. He knew that, even if he wished they were a little more observant. Billy shrugged, "Fever, probably just a cold-" Not a total lie, he probably would have a cold what with how he had been shivering. "And Harrington pushed me in the pool." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm gonna go see him-" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy shot an arm out, blocking the doorway completely. His eyes narrowed, and he knew the grin on his face was a little mean. That was the idea, even if the damn kids had gotten a little too used to it for his liking. "Don't think so, mop head," he said, sharply. "He needs to rest, not be bothered by you." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like you fucking care." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>They might have gotten used to him, but they also held grudges. Billy couldn't have cared less, Maxine usually did though. She was there, then, "Don't be a dickhead," she snapped, her hands on her hips. Billy thought it was amusing how scared of her they could be. Between her and El, the girls were fucking terrifying. She turned, a grin on her face, all traces of her annoyance gone. "Mom said I could stay with El, but you have to pick me up in the morning." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As if they even had to tell him, Billy wasn't a fucking idiot. But he wouldn't say it out loud, not to Max. Things were... good between them now. Better then they ever had been before and it was nice. She got nightmares sometimes, Billy knew. He was the one that woke her up, kept either of their parents from finding out (let her cling to him when she needed it). She hadn't had nightmares before, even having seen the monsters, having fought them. He knew exactly what it was that caused them now, what had made it different this time around. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Him, the Mind Flayer piercing his body, the blood. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"After breakfast," said El, her voice breaking through his thoughts. She smiled, "Waffles." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Max rolled his eyes, "Shocker," she said, sarcastically (but fond). </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright idiots, get your shit, I'm taking you home, I'll meet you outside," said Billy. He didn't wait around for anyone to argue, the sooner he got this done the better. He stepped back into Harrington's room, he wasn't surprised to see that every single light and lamp he owned was on. Billy drew the curtains, blocked out the light from the pool. Harrington hadn't gotten into bed, just sat on the edge in track pants and a hoodie. He still shook, and Billy sighed. "I'm taking the nerds home, are you going to be okay?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Steve looked at him, his eyes glassy. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, Billy vaguely wondered when it was he had last slept. Too long, obviously. "You're still wet," he said, softly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've got clothes in the Camaro," said Billy. He shook his head, crossed the room so that he stood in front of Harrington. He didn't look up at him, just stared blankly at his shirt. "I know you can see my abs through this shirt, Harrington, but there's no need to stare." He went for light and flirty, something to break the good damn heaviness in the room. Billy felt like he was suffocating, he didn't know how to fix it, he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He leaned down, placed his hands on Harrington's shoulders. "Go to bed, Harrington, you look like shit." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Gee, thanks," said Steve, sarcastically. He refused to meet his gaze, and annoyed, Billy grabbed his jaw and forced him too.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I mean it, you need to go to fucking sleep," said Billy. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harrington laughed, a little bitterly. "Yeah, sure, okay." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy sighed, pulled back. He couldn't do this now, not when he had to go out again. "I'll be back, Max is staying at Hop's so I won't be long." He turned to leave, but Harrington latched onto his wrist, his eyes wide. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're coming back?" There was something in his voice, something that Billy couldn't (didn't want too) place. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like I would leave you like this, Harrington," snapped Billy, "Jesus Christ I'm not that shit of a person." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harrington's eyes looked suspiciously watery and Billy looked away. "You'll- you'll really be back?" asked Steve, his voice small. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, Princess, I'll be back," said Billy. He still wouldn't look over at him, was a little scared at what he might see. "I won't be long." Without looking back, Billy left. His heart was beating fast and he desperately needed a cigarette. He could hear the kids, laughing. Billy rolled his eyes, "You fuckers better be ready to go," he yelled, "Or I swear you can walk home."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"We're coming, asshole!" Max shouted back. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy rolled his eyes and stepped out into cool, night air. He shivered, if it was California he probably would have been almost dry by now but instead his shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin, his jeans still felt like they were dripping. Stupid Hawkins, stupid Indiana. Billy peeled his clothes off, replaced them with something <em>dry</em> and leaned on the horn when his sister and her friends took a little too long. God, he didn't know how Harrington had the patience to deal with all of them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>They were so loud. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arguing, laughing, yelling. He dropped Sinclair, then Henderson, Wheeler was staying with Byers for the night and then it was just Max and El. It was blissfully quiet without the boys in the car too, but Billy could feel El looking at him. He glanced at her in the mirror, shooting her a glare. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?" he snapped. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Max followed his gaze, eyed her best friend, warily. "You'll stay with Steve tonight?" El asked, a frown pulling at her lips. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't you already know the answer, kid?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>El shook her head, her curls bouncing. "No, tried not to look. I know people don't like it, but you and Max the most, you are the same like that." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy sighed, "Yes, I'll stay with him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why? Is Steve okay?" asked Max, looking between Billy and El, her green eyes narrowed. "I thought he just had a cold?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's fine," said Billy. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not fine," said El, at the same time. She glared at him, her eyes flashing. "Friends don't lie." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm not her friend, I'm her brother," said Billy, coolly. El wasn't amused, he could see it on her face. Billy didn't much care, tried to project that loud enough so that she could hear it. This- what Harrington was going through- they didn't need to know this. They were kids, and kids bounced back, but this was too real, too dark. Harrington should have spoken to Hopper or Joyce Byers, hell, even fucking Nancy or Jonathan, but the rest of them? No, they didn't need to know. They didn't need to know that Harrington slept with the lights on, had nightmares anyway. They didn't need to know that he had almost fucking drowned himself tonight. Billy shook his head, "He's not fine," he said, glancing sideways at Max. "But he will be." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Probably, maybe, he hoped. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Max didn't look convinced, but she didn't push it. Maybe she was saving that for El, and Billy gave her a long look when they pulled up to the Chief's cabin and they got out. He knew she would understand without words, Billy didn't have to warn her, she knew. She didn't like it, but she knew. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I won't say anything," El grumbled. "Promise." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy nodded, first at her, and then at Hopper as he stepped outside. His eyes narrowed as he saw Billy, no doubt expecting Harrington (and not expecting Max). "Change of plans," he said, as way of explanation. "Hope you don't mind?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's fine," said Hopper, "Everything good, Hargrove?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good enough," said Billy. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Hopper wasn't one to push, and Billy had always liked that about him. Hopper gave him one last wave as Billy pulled out of the driveway, didn't even warn him not to speed this time. Not that Billy ever listened. He didn't always leave well enough alone. Hopper had made it very clear he wanted Billy to come to the station, make a statement against his old man. He saw the flash of anger whenever Billy rocked up looking worse for wear. He didn't push it though, he didn't like it, but he didn't push it. Even kept Joyce from stomping down there herself, as amusing as that would be to watch. His dad might have been an abusive son of a bitch, but Billy would put good money on Joyce Byers beating the shit out of him. He wanted it- god, did he want it. But he had lasted this long, he could last a little longer. Maybe when Max was older, when she could leave too, maybe then- Billy shook his head, tried to clear his thoughts. None of that mattered, not tonight. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy skidded into the driveway of Harrington's obnoxiously large house. He made a point of being loud about it, let the door swing shut with a bang, moved up the stairs with heavy steps. The rest of the house was dark, Harrington hadn't left the room, then. He had moved though, Billy felt some of the tension that had tightened around his heart loosen when brown eyes snapped to his the moment he stepped into the bedroom. Harrington had hunkered under the covers, his hands balled up in the material, clutching at it tightly. But he was there, not in the pool, not on the edge of the woods staring out at the shadows. Billy didn't even try turn out the lights, just toed off his boots and slipped under the covers without a word. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harrington was all tension, Billy could feel it as he dragged him closer. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy wished he could say this was the first time that he had been in Steve Harrington's bed and held him (but it wasn't, and they didn't speak about it). </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You came back," said Harrington, quietly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Told you I would." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harrington let out a breath, and Billy felt the tension leave him, felt it when Steve- all soft and loose, curled into his side. He still shook, and his hands still curled into Billy's shirt, but he at least seemed like he could breathe now. Billy ran a hand over his back, absentmindedly. It was quiet, he could never blame Harrington for how scared of this house he could be. Pool aside, there was just something creepy about how fucking empty it was. Loneliness lingered in every corner, Billy fucking hated leaving Harrington here. He fucking hated his parents too for just leaving him to fend for himself, week after week, month after month. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sorry," said Harrington. Billy glanced down at him, the way he chewed at his bottom lip. "I- I wasn't going to- I just got distracted down there, I didn't realise how long I had been under the water until I came up, honest. I wasn't trying to drown myself, I don't want to die. I just- I had to check, <em>I had to check, Billy.</em>" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy closed his eyes, took a breath, and then another. It was good that Harrington didn't want to die, but there was nothing about what he said that was comforting, that made him feel better or any less worried. "How long since you've slept, Harrington?" Billy asked. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't know, a couple of days." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It didn't surprise, he was always worse, more anxious, when he hadn't been able to rest. It was a brutal cycle, he couldn't sleep because of the nightmares, because of the anxiety, but when he didn't, it got worse anyway. Billy sighed, "Come to me next time, asshole," said Billy, without any heat. "How many times do I have to fucking tell you? You don't want Wheeler and Byers to help fine, that's on you, but you see enough of my shit, don't go jumping into pools without fucking calling me." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cause you're a lifeguard?" quipped Harrington, weakly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Billy pinched him, hard. "Don't be a dick." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Takes one to know one." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I mean it, Steve." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harrington sighed, Billy could feel the breath of air against his neck, resisted the urge to shudder. "I know you do, Billy." He threw a leg over Billy, holding onto him that much tighter. Billy let him, always fucking let him. Billy wasn't a stay the night kind of guy, he would sleep with a girl and slip out the window as soon as she was asleep. He never stayed for this, for the intimacy but he did with Harrington. He always did with Harrington, even when Billy woke up warm and sticky with sweat, he never pushed him away. It was fucking ridiculous is what it was. Even as he thought that he held Harrington closer, held him like he might keep him safe. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thank you," whispered Steve, his voice thick. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Go to sleep, Harrington," said Billy, tiredly. There was no point thinking about it, not for too long. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You'll be here when I wake up?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah, I'll be here." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Of course he would, as if he could ever have said 'no' to those eyes. He figured no one could, it was easy to see now how he ruled the school, the whole fucking town probably. No one could say no to Steve Harrington and those eyes, no one. Least of all Billy, but that was a problem for another day. </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I don't usually respond to comments but know that I read them all and every single one makes my day. Thanks so much for everything! Hope you enjoyed! Xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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